


Ship to Wreck

by OriginalAlcy



Category: Batwoman (Comic), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalAlcy/pseuds/OriginalAlcy
Summary: Her pursuit of a dangerous criminal organisation leads Kate Kane to National City with the intention of enlisting help from her ex, Maggie Sawyer. The situation is far more dangerous than Kate has anticipated, as she's dragged into the machinations of Cadmus and a world of superheroes far beyond her own. Meanwhile Alex Danvers is wondering whether her timing could be any worse as she tries to come to terms with her new normal in the midst of a crisis. Not to mention wondering whether she has to compete with Batwoman for the affections of the woman she might be falling for.





	1. A Whole Load of Trouble

**Gotham**

For all her high tech gadgets and prowess with a pistol, there was nothing quite as satisfying as a collision between body parts. Fist smashing into jaw, knee driving upwards into gut, elbow to temple. Each came with its own distinctive sound. Brutal and raw, hand to hand fighting was the very basest element of combat. Guns and flash bombs offered detachment from the target, while hand to hand offered only pain.

She knew everything there was to know about pain – physical, mental, emotional, it made no difference. Pain was pain and, for the most part, she had well established mechanisms for dealing with it.

Fist smashing into jaw – her jaw. Her head snapped back with enough force to knock her off her feet. The recovery was quick out of necessity. She propelled herself downwards into a roll. Her body armour meant that she felt little at the contact with the unyielding concrete. A flurry of fists passed harmlessly above. He leaned forward with his body committed to the attack and put himself slightly off balance.

Knee driving upwards into gut. A grunt of pain followed. It was not enough to buy her more than a few seconds, but she used it. She leapt upwards into a roundhouse kick only to find he had recovered more quickly than anticipated. There was a dull thud as her foot collided with a barrel-like chest instead of his head. With her momentum abruptly curtailed, his hands seized her leg and used the leverage to toss her backwards. Her body twisted in the air and she landed on her feet. She ducked, but not quite fast enough. Elbow to temple. Her head snapped back for the second time in less than thirty seconds. This time his momentum drove him forward and the flurry of fists she had avoided earlier found the soft planes of her face. Knuckles crashed into her cheek and lip, sending her crashing back to the concrete.

_Get up, Kate._

The salty tang of blood from a split lip invaded her mouth – merely superficial damage. A guttural roar of triumph sounded above her. She had managed to force herself onto her elbows when a steel-toed boot slammed mercilessly into her gut – her body armour softened the blow, but even then she felt a not so superficial stab of pain radiate throughout her torso. Unfortunately she also gave him the satisfaction of crying out – a strangled grunt. Rough hands grabbed her beneath her arms and used the grip to haul her upwards. Her body slammed against a nearby wall.

Through clouded vision she saw a hulking blur move towards her. Vice-like fingers wrapped around her throat, constricting all but the most determined effort to draw a breath. She was cruelly hoisted upwards in a display of immense strength.

_What the hell are they feeding these morons?_

Her feet dangled inches above the ground as she struggled to find a way to get him to release her. Finally, there it was. The opening she needed. He thought she was done, getting sloppy as a result instead of finishing her off cleanly.

Fingers prised at the edges of her mask. Curiosity was never a good thing

"Time to find out who's under the mask, bitch."

"Time for you to fly, buddy."

It was over in a matter of seconds. A hiss of gas as her last remaining piton released, darting overhead to find purchase in the solid wood of the rafters. She moved, using the wire's tension as leverage, spinning her body. The wired looped around the goon's neck, once, twice, before she shoved him backwards. The tension gone, the wire retracted, dragging the goon with it. There was only a gurgled croak as his struggling bulk was propelled upwards.

Ignoring the twitching form overhead, she took stock of the situation. The warehouse was a mess. Smashed crates, their contents spilling out, filled the space. Not counting the goon above, no less than five more bodies lay in various states of unconsciousness or death. A sixth was making a futile attempt to crawl from her presence.

The wounded goon heard her bootfalls as she approached. He rolled onto his back, staring up at her with wide eyes. "Not giving you shit, Batwoman!"

"Nice to meet you too."

Kate Kane, aka Batwoman, hunkered down at his side. She gave his injuries a cursory glance. Judging by the trail of blood he was leaving in his wake, he was probably going to bleed out within the next five minutes. The whole crawling away thing was a futile exercise. Perhaps if she got the answers she was after, she'd think about trying to save his life.

She'd been working this angle for almost two months. It started as a side project, tracking down a couple of disappearances. At first Kate had thought them to be isolated instances, but a pattern soon emerged. They had warranted attention because those that had gone missing seemed to fit into a clear mould. A decathlete, a boxer who was touted as the next contender, an ex-special forces officer. Individuals at the peak of physical health - exceptional even. And they were disappearing without a trace. At least no trace that the local PD were capable of following.

She'd eventually switched her full attention to the project, uncovering a criminal organisation in Gotham she'd never encountered prior. A nameless, faceless entity whose objects she didn't fully understand, but whose resources were considerable. However upon tracking down their operation, she'd caught them in the process of packing up. There was no sign of the missing individuals, just a warehouse full of crates and a squad of goons that hadn't been pleased at the interruption.

They'd been even less pleased at the ass-kicking that followed.

In a perfunctory manner, Kate pressed her thumb into one of the bullet wounds riddling the guy's body. She took no pleasure at all in the scream that followed.

"I'm here for some answers. If I had as little time as you, I'd be inclined to start talking."

"You've got eyes, bitch!" he gasped. "All your answers are right here! Boss's packing up the Gotham operation!"

Kate dug her thumb in further. "I have got eyes. You'd better be a little nicer. You can start by giving me a destination."

"Gah! Nat...National City!"

That was more than enough to give Kate cause to take notice.  

_It had to be fucking National City._

A flurry of inopportune memories flooded her thoughts. Dark flashing eyes and a killer smile. Kate didn't dare close her eyes on those particular memories. That was a rabbit hole she hadn't dared to let herself go down for a long time. Not even when she'd received that text last week, relying on an immense display of willpower to shove it out of her mind.

Kate dragged herself back to the present. She was losing her source of information, letting him bleed out while she lost focus. He was past crying out, his face a shock white from lack of blood. "Give me a damn name. Who's behind this operation? And what the hell is so important in National City?"

His pained expression morphed into a grin as his head lolled about. Clearly he'd since realised that his life was already forfeit. She had no leverage and had wasted her chance to get anything out of the guy. Kate was already imaging what Jake Kane would say in response to her loss of control. She cursed and almost gently placed the dying goon back on the ground.

"Got one name for you, bitch."

Whatever emerged from his mouth, Kate knew it couldn't be trusted. Or at least the intent behind it couldn't be trusted. The guy was dying. Whatever he said, someone would have wanted her to hear it. What started out as trying to return a few poor schmucks to their families had the potential to morph into something much larger. And on a personal note, it threatened to take her somewhere she wasn't ready to go.

"What's the name?" Kate demanded.

_"Cadmus."_

* * *

 

**National City**

The last remaining shot was left sitting on the table in front of her, but Maggie Sawyer had lost all interest in downing it. Less than an hour ago, drinking herself into a comfortable stupor had seemed like a brilliant idea. Now? Well, now there was way too much going on in her head. She didn't want to dull any of her thoughts with something so mundane as booze.

_"Maybe there's some truth to what you said."_

_"About?"_ Maybe the prompt had been unnecessary, but for some reason Maggie had needed to hear it.

_"What you said. About me."_

Maggie couldn't stop thinking about the way in which the voice almost broke as the confession emerged. Or the way those eyes shone with unshed tears. Now all she wanted to do was hold onto that moment.

Hold onto the moment and revel in the fact that Alex Danvers liked girls.

As was she, Maggie, a girl who also happened to like girls.

At the point that Maggie caught herself with a ridiculous, insipid smile on her face she reached for the last shot and threw it back in one motion. She needed to get the hell of public spaces before she embarrassed herself. Her plan was to head home, go to bed, and hopefully wake up as a functioning adult.

Outside the night was a washed out black. No starlight. Just the bright artifice of streetlights. It had been raining. Maggie remembered Alex hadn't been wearing a jacket and her thoughts immediately went to concern before lingering on the image of the agent with wet hair plastered to her head. There was that damn smile again. She wiped it, replaced it with a scowl and slammed her boot down into a puddle, irritated by her complete lack of cool. The sensible part of her brain was doing its best to remind her that everything about this situation screamed trouble. For starters the pain of her last relationship - an intense month that had felt like a year - still persisted. Hell, she hadn't even deleted Bridget's number from her phone.  There was no need to even think about diving headfirst into another relationship. Especially not one that would be intense due to its very nature. Not to mention the fact that patience wasn't exactly her strong suit.

_Playing nursemaid to a baby gay isn't what you need right now, Sawyer._

Regardless of how hot the woman was.

_Hot doesn't even begin to describe it._ Maggie gritted her teeth at her troublesome thoughts _._ _Don't even fucking think about it!_

It would have been easier to lay the blame on Alex Danvers. Alex fucking Danvers and her effortless, almost unconscious swagger. The manner in which she carried herself without any realisation of the effect her presence had. Maggie paused in the middle of the street, oblivious to the taxi rank in front of her or the terse muttering of a guy whose path she'd blocked.  Reaching for her phone was the worst idea she'd had all night, but the irregular rhythm of her heartbeat  was all the encouragement she needed. A few deft swipes later and her finger was poised above 'Danvers.' One little stab of her finger was all it would take. Utterly selfish, but potentially so rewarding - even if only to hear Alex's voice on the other end.

Someone thumped into her shoulder. There was a beat as she juggled her phone in her palm before managing to retain hold of it.

"Jeez, lady, move why dontcha?"

The moment was gone. Maggie thrust her phone firmly into her pocket and made a determined line towards the nearest taxi.

The only thing on Maggie's mind as her key turned in the lock to her apartment was the half-empty bottle of Jack and the potential solace it held. The taxi ride had given her all the time in the world to realise that she needed to dull her thoughts if she had any hope of getting Alex Danvers out of her head. A couple more drinks and she'd be able to fall into a blissfully dreamless sleep. No fucking moping. No more catching herself with an absurd smile on her face.

Something was off. She sensed it as soon as her boot crossed the threshold. A distinct whiff of a fragrance that hadn't met  her nostrils in a long time. It was barely there, but undeniably cloying and just as intoxicating as the booze in her system. If not even worse. Maggie kicked the door shut as her gaze went straight to the fluttering curtain and the open window. Her bottle of Jack was on the coffee table - not where she'd left it - in front of the woman sitting in her worn leather armchair. A harsh exhale escaped Maggie's lips as she ripped off her jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Kate?"

The woman leaned forward. The weak light filtering through the window illuminated a pale, sculpted cheek. Strands of brilliant red hair obscured the woman's eyes until she tilted her head to one side. The gaze was piercing, direct. Even after all this time, that gaze drove a rod straight through Maggie's chest.

"Unless a text saying 'I need you' means something terribly different these days, I thought I was invited."

Maggie folded her arms tightly across her chest. It was a defence mechanism more than anything else. Not in a million years would she actually have thought that her drunken text would have elicited any sort of response. A week later and Kate Kane was in her apartment. Kate fucking Kane.

Aka Batwoman.

The ex she'd never been able to completely get out of her system.

"Shit, Kate...when have you ever shown up when I've needed you?" Kate was here now. Sitting in her chair, wearing a white shirt that offered a generous view of her cleavage and a pair of tight black jeans. "Instead you choose the one time I really don't."

Kate leaned forward in an almost predatory fashion, nodded towards the half-empty bottle on the table. "There's three empties in your trash that say otherwise. You always did try and drink away your problems."

Maggie snorted. "Only after I met you."

It wasn't until that moment that Maggie realised how exhausted she was. A rough day combined with booze and the myriad thoughts competing for her attention left her drained. There was nothing to do other than collapse onto the sofa. Her eyes slid closed the moment that the cushions embraced her tired body. Within the space of a few minutes, her night had gone even further south.

The situation was made infinitely worse when she felt a weight depress the sofa. First on one side of her body, then the other. A warm weight settled into her lap, immediately kindling an unwanted but instinctive fire in the pit of her stomach. Maggie didn't open her eyes, fully capable of picturing Kate straddling her, invading her space. There was no choice other than to respond by snaking her hands beneath Kate's shirt, finding the skin beneath just as silky as she remembered it.

"Maggie." Kate whispered in her ear.

It was all the invitation Maggie needed to increase the pressure of her fingers. Kate's muscular body was almost unyielding beneath her touch, again just as she remembered. A second later and everything unravelled even further as she felt lips pressed against her neck in a feather light kiss. The sigh that followed was instinctive, but it set off warning signals. Using every shred of willpower she possessed, Maggie twisted her head away from Kate's searching lips. The kiss instead landed on her cheek, searing with an intense heat, taunting her for being pathetic.

"Your timing couldn't be worse."

Her tone was irritable, partially caused by the fact that she could hear the lust in her voice. She knew that if she gave in she would be safe in the oblivion of fucking and being fucked. Instead she ruined the moment but letting her thoughts stray back to Alex.

_"No. I get it. You're not gay."_

_"Right!"_

Had the response been too vehement? Maggie hadn't been able to resist adding a comment. _"You'd be surprised how many gay women I've heard that from."_

"Kate." Uncompromising. Blunt. That was what was needed. She placed a hand on her ex's shoulder to keep her at arm's length. "You can't just show up after four years and expect to pick up where things left off. This...it's not a good time."

Maggie's resolve almost faltered whilst trying to deliver a withering stare into those pale green eyes. She breathed a discreet sigh of relief as the weight disappeared. Kate moved, somehow managing to make flopping onto the other end of the sofa look graceful. She drew one lithe leg into her chest, and rested her chin atop it as she studied Maggie with a piercing gaze. Unable to compete, Maggie looked at the floor instead.

"Don't tell me you got back together with - what was her name?"

"No." Maggie shook her head. If only the situation was that simple. "Bridget and I are done. Over. She made that abundantly clear and...well, let's just say I'm over her."

"Mags, you were always a crappy liar. Something's eating you up."

The irony of Kate Kane trying to get her to confess her demons wasn't lost on Maggie. She huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. All those nights she'd lain in bed wishing that Kate Kane would stroll back into her life. Now the woman herself was here and Maggie wanted more than anything to be alone. She jerked forward, lunging for the booze. She didn't stand a chance. Kate's reflexes were honed by years of training and combat. Maggie was left staring at the bottle being waved in front of her.

Kate's eyes suddenly widened in surprise. "There's someone else? _Shit._ You move on fast these days."

"There's no one else." Damn the woman and her perception. "At least not like that. She's a friend. I was with her earlier tonight."

"With or _with_?" Kate probed.

"Fuck you, Kate. I said not like that. She's just realised she likes women and I was..."

Whatever she had been about to say was suddenly gone. She  was pissed at herself for just blurting it out with barely any effort on Kate's part. For some reason she didn't want Kate to know about Alex. Two people who were part of two very different parts of her life. Suddenly her apartment felt claustrophobic.

"Ahhh." The sound Kate makes is irritatingly understanding. "And you helped her come to this realisation?"

"No...maybe. I mean, I thought she was hitting on me." The attempt explanation was making it all sound so much worse. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Kate smirked. "Like what? Like I'm judging you for corrupting a straight girl? Because you'd be right. How old is this kid anyway?"

"She's not a kid, Kate!" Maggie snapped, lurching to her feet. "Jesus fucking Christ! You show up unannounced and you're already scrutinising my life. You've long since given up any right to have an opinion on anything I do."

"Have I given up any right to care about you? You're clearly not thinking straight - no pun intended. This friend of yours? Maggie, if you value your friendship at all, you won't go there. Not with someone who's only just working out who they are and what they want."

As much as Maggie loathed Kate in that moment, she knew it was the truth. Alex liked her. Of that much she was certain. It was adorable and flattering but Kate was right. She didn't want to go there. In that direction lay only trouble. And Maggie had always prided herself on being able to avoid trouble.

Kate suddenly unfolded her legs and rose to her feet. "You're right. I shouldn't have shown up here unannounced."

"Really?" Maggie snapped in return. "I can't believe how you ever thought breaking into my apartment would be a good idea."

There was a small shrug in response. "I dunno. I guess I thought it might have been romantic." Kate retrieved her jacket and threw it over her shoulders. "I'll check into a hotel."

"Don't be ridiculous." Maggie realised that her voice had suddenly gone soft. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that Kate said 'romantic,' and - as hard as Maggie fought against it - it kind of was. She had sent that text, and Kate was here. Granted it was a week later, but she had still come to National City. "It's almost three am," Maggie continued, drawing in a cautious breath. "You might as well crash here."

"I promise I'll behave."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Going to fetch a couple of blankets from her closet gave Maggie some space to breathe, to try and make sense of the whole damn day. Earlier, she'd written a nonsensical report about anti-gravity weapons. Then she'd watched as three men screamed and died in front of her for no apparent reason. Her day had already been strange enough without witnessing Alex Danvers come to what was the most important realisation in her entire life.

Now her ex, the woman she'd always thought to be the love of her life, was going to spend the night on her sofa.

With the blankets in front of her like some kind of shield, Maggie felt like she was returning to do battle. Kate had returned to her previous position on the sofa, although not before having stripped down to a plain white vest and underwear. She didn’t notice Maggie’s return, not immediately. Her gaze was fixed on an indeterminate point on the floor, but from the manner in which her hand was poised above her heart, Maggie knew her ex was lost in memories.

“Does it still hurt?”

Kate jerked suddenly, as though snapping out of some reverie. “Huh? No…not really. Just thinking.”

Maggie approached the sofa cautiously, trying not to let herself linger over the swathes of exposed pale skin and the well-defined muscles of Kate’s arms. “Why are you here, Kate?”

Kate smiled sadly. “You were drunk when you sent that text weren’t you, Mags?”

“I…yeah, I was.” That little fact was hardly important. “What does that have to do with anything. You weren't actually supposed to show up."  

Kate's smile became an irrepressible grin, just for a moment. "I thrive on being unpredictable." Then it was gone, replaced by an expression that was as serious as it got with Kate Kane. Which was serious. "You've got trouble coming your way, Detective Sawyer. I'm here to help."

With an irritated huff, Maggie dumped the blankets on the sofa. "You didn't think of bringing that up to start with?"

Once again Kate's reflexes caught her out. One quick lunge and her wrist was encased in a gentle but vice-like grip. Maggie hated the fact that she shivered as Kate delicately swiped a thumb down the inside of her wrist.

"I did...then, well..." Kate paused, throat working as she swallowed before speaking. "I saw you, and I realised why we haven't seen each other for four years. Why I ignored that text and any others that came before it."

Maggie snorted disparagingly. "Please! I've hardly made a habit of texting you!" She sighed as the outburst reminded her that she needed to get to bed. "Is this something that can wait until morning?"

Kate released Maggie's wrist. She offered up a taut nod. "Of course. Sorry. I don't think any nefarious schemes are about to go down in the next few hours."

"Stop apologising, Kate. It doesn't suit you." Maggie backed away, shaking her head. "I...we'll talk in the morning."

With that she turned and practically fled from the room, breathing again only when a firmly shut bedroom door was in between herself and Kate Kane. She pressed her body gratefully against the barrier and closed her eyes, surprising herself when her thoughts didn't drift towards Kate, but rather towards Alex Danvers. Alex and her stunted, adorable attempt to confess to Maggie - and herself - the emotions she'd kept locked away for most of her life.

And Batwoman was currently sleeping on her sofa.

Maggie shook her head. _What a fucking day._

* * *

 

_Alex listens to Mrs Donohue make her way down the hallway after admonishing them not to stay up all night talking. Still, it's Saturday night and they're teenage girls. It's practically mandatory that they stay up all night talking. Vicky's already in bed. Alex casts a quick glance at her face in the bathroom mirror, checking she doesn't have toothpaste at the corner of her mouth before she turns off the light and scurries across the room. There's a giggle as she launches herself onto Vicky's side of the bed._

_"This is a hostile takeover!" Alex announces gleefully, using her knees and elbows as she deposes Vicky from her warm spot._

_There's a protest of course. Vicky tries to avoid heading into the cold expanse on the other side of the bed. A thought flits into Alex's head as she's burrowing against her friend. Just the ghost of one really, but it's enough at least to make her think that maybe...just maybe, it would be alright if she and Vicky shared the warm side of the bed. To Alex's rational mind it makes perfect sense. This side is warm. The other isn't. It doesn't occur to her to worry about the fact that they'd be crammed together, limbs touching...or entwined. There's a strange flutter in her stomach at the last thought._

_Then Vicky, grumbling good-humouredly about how Alex is a guest, moves to the other side of the bed._

_Feeling suddenly bereft, Alex lets her fingers slide into the empty expanse between them._

Alex Danvers - DEO agent and adoptive sister to the most powerful woman on the planet - jerked upright in bed, forced to press her hand against her thumping heart in an effort to calm down.

"Oh crap," she whispered after catching her breath.

She turned to check the time, despondent to find she’d been asleep for a few hours at best. Three hours of tossing and turning had preceded that meagre amount of sleep. Hours spent with her body crying out for sleep while her mind did its best to thwart the attempt. The dream - or had it been a memory? – lingered at the forefront of her mind.

Stuff was coming back to her in bits and pieces – feelings mostly, emotions. She felt a palpable thrill, wrapped up in layers of feel and denial, until the only thing she could do was admit to herself that it had been real. Alex flopped back down against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling whilst mulling over the fact that this wasn’t entirely new information. Some part of her had known as a teenager, yet those feelings had subsequently been thoroughly buried.

Alex couldn’t help but pose an alternate trajectory for her life – one where she’d acknowledged those teenaged feelings for what they actually were. Her life would have played out as it was supposed to. There would have been no awkward dancing with Adam Tait at her senior prom, when she’d deliberately trodden on his foot to avoid him kissing her. More importantly, no persisting with the thought that she was somehow broken because she didn’t enjoy sex. Before she could surrender to the irritating tears that pricked at her eyes, Alex decisively threw back the covers and launched herself out of bed. Her prospects of sleep seemed slim, rendered so by the countless questions darting around in her head, all demanding immediate answers.

However as she walked into her living room, her sense of purpose disappeared as she realised that she didn’t actually have anything to do. Instead she ended up standing in the middle of the space for almost ten minutes, an internal debate raging as to whether she ought to redecorate.

_You’re gay, Danvers_ , she helpfully reminded herself. _Not having a teenage rebellion or a mid-life crisis_. She glanced around her apartment, muted tones broken up with only a few splashes of colour. _Being gay doesn’t change the fact that you really…really like the colour blue._

Before she could seriously consider redecorating,  Alex flopped onto the sofa. She booted up her laptop in an effort to distract herself with news, or videos of cats jumping into boxes, but twenty minutes of mindless clicking led only to her becoming even more frustrated with herself and the world in general. Alex slammed the lid of her laptop down and tossed the offending device onto the sofa.

Eventually she was left with nothing to do other than change into her running gear. A few minutes later and she was pounding the pavement along with a handful of enthusiastic souls who had clearly traded in extra sleep for the joys of physical exertion at 5am. Alex soon settled into a comfortable rhythm. After all, this was something she could do without thinking. Repetitive movements and the satisfying sound of her soles hitting the pavement soon replaced unwanted thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later and she'd worked up a decent heart rate. She could feel a thin sheen of sweat coating her face. It almost helped her forget that she had barely slept, however a yawn mid stride served to remind her.  No matter how hard she pushed herself, or forced her limbs to move faster, she couldn't outrun the reason for her early morning jog. 

The piercing wail of a siren somewhere suddenly broke her concentration. Alex's stride faltered and she caught her toe as she stepped up onto the kerb. The contact was enough to send her flying forward onto her hands and knees, swearing as the rough surface grated against her skin. Thankfully no one was around to witness her tumble and she was back on her feet in seconds. Instead of resuming her run, she found herself brushing small stones out of the indentations they'd made on her palms before staring at the thin trail of blood making its way down her shin. 

Alex sighed and straightened, propping her hands on her hips as she tried to gather her breath. 

She couldn’t remember being this lost since that godawful day her Mom had told her that her Dad wasn’t coming home. Not even in the months before she’d joined the DEO, when alcohol had very neatly solved most of her problems – or at least kept her in a state where they didn’t bother her. 

At her lowest moment, walking back in the direction of her apartment, suffering from sleep deprivation and utter boredom, Alex remembered that she had a potential source of answers. One that  hopefully wouldn't bombard her information that she wasn’t ready for or tell her to sort it out on her own. No, the solution lay in one small, exceptionally attractive package. 

Maggie Sawyer.

Alex resumed jogging at a slow, measured pace, although now she had an actual plan forming in her head.

She didn’t want a dummies guide to being gay, or her hand held (although she would hardly say no to Maggie holding her hand again), just a few pointers. Some advice as to what the hell to do next. 

_Although a little demonstration wouldn’t go amiss either._

Alex’s cheeks burned as she ran, but she didn’t stop herself from asking one more question to which she didn’t have the answer. What would it feel like to kiss a girl?

Or at least, what would it feel like to kiss one, specific girl.

 


	2. Exes and Ohs

For the first time in years, Maggie felt the absence of a cigarette poised between her fingers. Not out of any craving, but for the simple fact that the routine of smoking would give her something to do whilst waiting in the alleyway outside Dolly’s.

Something to think about other than Kate Kane. 

It had been less than twenty-four hours since the woman had suddenly shown up in National City and completely disrupted the life that she had built for herself. Sometimes, in her weaker moments, Maggie had dreamt of Kate Kane sauntering back into her life. Their fractured relationship would somehow be repaired and they'd pick things up from a point where they were happy. However now Maggie found it difficult to remember any such times. All she could remember were the clashes, two similar personalities combining to create an unhealthy vortex. Now, with Kate in National City, everything felt off. Awkward.

Kate didn't belong in this life.

Instead Maggie paced, looking anywhere other than to the spot where Kate was leaning against the wall behind her. In ignoring Kate, she was able to concentrate on the one thing that meant something to her. The one thing that mattered. Despite Kate’s unexpected arrival and the enhanced threat posed by Cadmus, all Maggie wanted to think about was the simple act of Alex Danvers coming out to her. Her friend had been unable to say ‘I’m gay’ aloud, yet the truth had been all too evident in the words. Maggie desperately wanted to be able to continue their conversation, just to be there for Alex. Instead she would be stuck talking business. All the while feeling a distinct sense of resentment kindle in the pit of her stomach. Resentment towards Kate. Confusion in her own head as she wondered why waiting for Alex Danvers no longer held the promise it once did.

“Maggie! Earth to Detective Sawyer!” 

Maggie looked up at Kate’s raised voice. The irritated expression on Kate’s face hinted that she had probably been wrapped up in her own thoughts for some time. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“C’mon, Sawyer. She can’t be worth all of this moping,” Kate commented with a disapproving shake of her head.

“What do you mean? I’m not moping over her, I’m just worried-” Maggie cut herself off, biting her lip when she realised who Kate was actually referring to. Kate was talking about Bridget, while she had been thinking about Alex. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant. What were you trying to say?” 

Kate smiled sardonically. “Something’s up with you, Sawyer. And I’m going to get it out of you whether you want to tell me or not. Anyway, I was trying to ask you whether your contact can be trusted. One thing I’ve learned from Gotham’s finest is that even the shiniest looking cop can be on the take. Present company excluded of course.”

“Of course,” Maggie replied diplomatically. “And she’s not another cop.” 

“A Fed?" Kate narrowed her eyes. "You’re not going to tell me are you?” 

“Nope. You’ll just have to take my word for it.” 

Maggie was unapologetic. And she didn't need to prove how stubborn she was to Kate Kane of all people. Still, if Kate couldn’t continue with that line of questioning, Maggie feared that talk might go straight back to the reason for her wayward thoughts. The last thing she wanted was Kate Kane trying relentlessly to unpick her feelings towards Alex Danvers. Especially when Maggie didn’t even know what those feelings were. Or even what she wanted them to be. 

Mercifully, the roar of a finely tuned bike engine interrupted her train of thought and it gave Kate something new to focus on as Alex’s Ducati rounded the corner into the alleyway. 

The bike came to a smooth halt just in front of them. Maggie managed to dismiss the subsequent flutter in her chest as nervousness over Kate meeting Alex. It definitely had nothing to do with the way Alex moved as she swung her leg over the back of the bike. Or when she took her helmet off, and dragged her fingers through her wayward hair to restore some order. 

With her curls settled obediently into place, Alex walked towards them. There was no hesitation on her part, nor any attempt to be subtle as she scrutinised Kate, assessing the unknown quantity in the mix. 

“Danvers,” Maggie offered up the simple greeting, trying not to behave any differently after Alex’s revelation or as a result of Kate’s presence. She folded her arms across her chest for lack of anything better to do. “Thanks for joining us.”

Alex nodded. “Your message sounded important and...well, we’re friends. You know I’m always happy to help you out.”

Maggie was busy fighting against the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips when Kate strode forward. Never one to wait for an introduction, Kate thrust her hand towards Alex.

“Kate Kane.” 

“Alex Danvers.” 

Alex took the grip in a relaxed fashion. The resulting exchange, although brief, was fascinating to observe. As Maggie watched the interaction – the apparently casual stare and guarded body language – she found herself having to suppress an irrational surge of jealousy. 

_Where the hell did that come from?_ Her irritation resurfaced before she managed to restore a professional façade. After all, this was just business. 

As they made their way inside, Maggie couldn’t help but study Alex discreetly. The exhaustion on her friend’s face was evident and Maggie found herself wondering whether Alex was having difficulty sleeping. Her own coming out wasn’t so long ago that she’d forgotten what it felt like – anxiety and confusion serving to temper the excitement of self-discovery and understanding.

Kate offered to buy a round of drinks. Maggie pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table to Alex.

“Do you trust her?” Alex asked before Maggie could even think of how to voice her concern. “I mean, you obviously do or she wouldn’t be here, but we have no idea about the extent of Cadmus’ reach. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“No, you’re being a good agent,” Maggie replied quickly. Her gaze flicked momentarily towards the bar, towards Kate. “And the two of you asked precisely the same question about the other.” 

Alex’s eyebrows shot up slightly. “C’mon, I’m so trustworthy.” 

“Says the woman who told me she was secret service when we first met.” 

Alex shrugged somewhat sheepishly. “She’s the unknown quantity here." 

Maggie debated internally whether or not to reply honestly. In the end the admission came out in something of a rush. “Kate’s my ex.”

She was forced to watch the resulting realisation on Alex’s face. It wasn’t the same look of surprise that had greeted her after telling Alex about Darla. It was clouded by something else. Something that Maggie didn’t want to assume was jealousy.

However after mentioning the whole deal with Kate, Maggie couldn’t bring herself to ask how Alex was dealing with her coming out. All she could do was feel rotten as Alex cast a discreet gaze towards the bar, looking away sharply when Kate returned clutching three beers. 

Kate perched on a stool next to Alex, blissfully unaware of any undercurrents in the air. Maggie almost rolled her eyes when Kate leaned in close, making no attempt to hide the fact that she was sizing Alex up. Or flirting. 

Slightly flustered, Alex took a swig of beer. “So, Maggie tells me you’ve come into contact with Cadmus.” 

Kate shook her head. “Not with Cadmus itself. The organisation I was tracking was something else, it used to be independent. Now I’m fairly certain they’ve come to National City to lend their particular brand of expertise to Cadmus.” 

“And their particular brand of expertise is?” 

“Genetic modification…enhancement. What I thought was a simple missing persons case became something else altogether. There was a distinct pattern with those that were taken – athletes, elite military personnel. People at the peak of physical condition." Kate suddenly grinned. "Not unlike yourself Ms Danvers."

“We’ve already seen Cadmus experimenting on people with the two Metallos that caused havoc in National City and Metropolis a few months ago,” Maggie interjected as Alex took another gulp of her drink. “Why would they need to bring in a partner?”

Kate shrugged. “Access to new tech? At any rate, they’re here in National City and it can’t be good news for the local PD, especially when you don’t know what you’re up against.”

“Well, we’ve got Supergirl,” Alex said, clearly unfazed by Kate’s flirting. 

Either that or she was completely unaware. 

“Ah, yes, forgot about National City’s very own girl wonder." Kate smirked. "What’s up with that skirt anyway?”

“Exactly what have you got for us, Ms Kane?” 

There was a noticeable edge to Alex’s voice which caught Maggie’s attention. She already knew Alex had some sort of working relationship with Supergirl, but her reaction hinted at something more. Maggie brushed it off. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that Supergirl had friends. And she was more interested in Kate’s calm response to Alex’s demand. Without any flourish, Kate produced a small data drive from her pocket and placed it on the table in front of Alex. 

“That’s everything I have. Listen, Danvers. I meant what I said about this not being good news. These guys had connections and resources…and that was before they linked up with Cadmus. If Cadmus are recruiting new partners, you can bet that something big is about to go down.” 

“We’re well-equipped to deal with enhanced threats,” Alex replied, taking the drive and staring at it for a moment, as though she could somehow deduce whether it was genuine with a glance. “Thank you for this.” 

“Don’t mention it. I’m sure you’ll be able to return the favour one day.” The slightly awkward atmosphere around the table was interrupted by a chime from Alex’s phone. She looked at it immediately, her brow furrowing slightly as she read the contents of the message. "I’m really sorry, it’s work…” 

The tone of her voice didn’t match up to her words. If anything, it sounded as though Alex was relieved to have a reason to leave. Maggie followed suit when Alex stood up. She was about to offer to walk Alex out to her bike for the sake of a few minutes alone with her, before she stopped herself. Realising how such a thing would sound to Kate’s ears.

Instead she had to settle for looking slightly ridiculous. “See you round, Danvers.” And watching Alex leave with a slightly wistful expression that she quickly wiped. She turned to Kate. “Another beer?” 

Kate lifted up her full bottle. “I’m good.” She nodded towards the door. “Are you avoiding me asking about your friend?” 

Maggie slipped back onto her stool, trying to fix a neutral expression on her face as she wrapped her hand around her own beer, which was also very much full. “What do you mean?” 

“What do I mean? She’s gay right? Is she single?”

Resisting the urge to scowl at Kate’s ever impressive gaydar, Maggie took a drink to compose herself. “When are you heading back to Gotham, because you’re clearly not here to help out if you’re only thinking of getting laid.” 

Kate held up her hands in surrender. “Woah, Sawyer. What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

With her beer half gone after a few deep swigs, Maggie was unable to stop the burn in her cheeks as a result of Kate’s scrutiny. She wanted to disappear beneath the table at the moment that Kate’s eyes widened with realisation. 

Kate pointed towards the door that Alex had disappeared through just a minute earlier. “That’s your friend who’s just realised she’s gay? Okay, notwithstanding the fact that I can’t believe she’s only just realising that now…you like her?” Kate shook her head. "We've talked about this. C'mon, you can't seriously be thinking of going there? After that Bridget-woman ripped out your heart and stomped all over it, you're already thinking of starting something with some woman who's barely out of the closet?"

"Jesus fucking Christ I know and I'm not even thinking of going there!" Maggie growled. Fully aware of just how unconvincing she was. She drained the rest of her beer and slammed the empty down on the table. "I'm getting another. While I'm gone you can think of a new topic of conversation, because we're done with this one."

 

BREAK

 

Working at the DEO had brought purpose and order to Alex’s life. Upon walking through the doors – whether it be the damp underground bunker or the bright city tower – she’d always been able to forget any concerns from her personal life. It seemed that was no longer the case. 

Alex sat in the mercifully quiet locker room, her head in her hands, trying to make sense of the whirling chaos in her mind. First and foremost was the fact that she’d come out to Maggie Sawyer, and the very next day Maggie’s statuesque ex had breezed into National City. Absolutely fucking perfect.

Not that she had much of a claim to Maggie’s affections. None at all in fact. It was just that…well, Alex couldn’t suddenly pretend as though her feelings didn’t exist. 

A long day at work stretched out in front of her. A day of carrying around this new discovery. A discovery she was no closer to understanding. 

_Should I wear a badge that says ‘lesbian in training?’_ Alex coloured at the thought of everyone – colleagues, friends, family – suddenly having this new glimpse into her private life. Would they judge her? Think her obtuse for taking so long to realise something so important about herself? At the sound of footsteps, Alex forced herself to straighten. She quickly smoothed her hands on her pants and rose determinedly to her feet. She busied herself, strapping on her belt and webbing. However when she turned to offer a cursory greeting to whomever it was, she was surprised to see her sister. 

Kara was dressed for CatCo, where she ought to have been at this time of morning. 

“Do you even have a day job anymore?” 

Alex immediately regretted her irascible opening. 

She opened her mouth to apologise when Kara merely grinned and replied with a breezy shrug, “The perks of being a reporter as opposed to being subject to Miss Grant’s every whim. Snapper encourages us to spend as much time out of the office as possible.”

“I thought you enjoyed being subject to Cat Grant’s every whim,” Alex quipped in reply.

If she’d been in Kara’s position, she would have been fired on her first day. Cat Grant was definitely an acquired taste, one Alex had never acquired. Her sister however had the patience of a saint. 

“I’ll admit that Miss Grant could be a…handful at times,” Kara replied, a sudden stammer in her voice that Alex didn’t recognise. “But she had her moments…and I’ll always be grateful to her for giving me that job. As trying as she was at times...I-I…I miss her.” 

Alex frowned as Kara suddenly pretended to be fascinated by the emergency evacuation procedure poster on the wall opposite, making it clear that the conversation was done. However it was one of those days where Alex wasn’t up for interrogating her sister. Especially when the truth was probably something exceptionally mundane.

She resumed strapping her holster to her thigh. 

“So, where were you last night?”

“What do you mean?” Alex replied as nonchalantly as possible. 

“When I messaged you last night, you said you were on your way home.”

“Nosey much?” 

Alex didn’t exactly want to be reminded that she’d used Kara’s text as an excuse to leave Dolly’s and the awkward situation with Maggie and Kate. However, now that she’d thought about it, a series of unwanted thoughts filled her head. Mostly wondering what had happened to end the relationship between the detective and the stunning redhead. And whether that reason was preventing them getting back together. Alex ground her teeth. Kara was still looking on expectantly. 

“Since you’re clearly not making any attempt to do your real job, you should come to the morning briefing. We’ve been handed some new intel on Cadmus.” 

“You’re in a fine mood today,” Kara replied grumpily, even as she followed Alex out of the locker room. “Tell you what, I come to your briefing, you spar with me later this afternoon?" 

Alex brightened slightly. It was a brilliant suggestion. The chance to let out the pent up frustration she’d been carrying around for days. And maybe, just maybe, there would be an opportune moment at the end of the session to open up to her sister. 

Maybe. 

“You’re on. As long as you don’t mind having your butt kicked.”

* * *

 

THWACK! 

The air was driven from Alex’s lungs as she hit the pads with force. Her first instinct was to regain her feet immediately, but for some reason she was having difficulty getting her limbs to cooperate. When she started seeing black dots crowding her vision, Alex realised that she’d forgotten to breathe. 

She rolled over and sucked a deep gulp into her lungs just in time to see a pair of shiny red boots come to stop in front of her. A second later, Kara crouched down. Alex could see the smug grin on her sister’s face. 

“I thought you were supposed to be kicking my butt?” Kara pointed out unhelpfully. The grin disappeared when Alex didn’t make any attempt to regain her feet. “Are you sure you’re alright? I really didn’t think you’d fall for that feint. You normally flip those back on me and I’m the one that ends up on the ground.” 

With her ears ringing, Alex was having trouble trying to think straight, but she still knew Kara was right. It was a rookie mistake, easily avoided. 

Throughout the sparring session, her mind hadn’t been focussed in her customary manner. It had been all she could do to avoid ending up on the platform more often, let alone attempt to be the aggressor. However Kara had come a long way since their first sparring sessions. Even with her super powers taken out of the equation, she was no pushover and certainly more than a match for someone whose mind wasn’t on the task at hand.

Alex was eventually able to offer up a taut nod. A moment later she was able to drag herself to her feet and adopt a fighting stance. 

Kara also rose, although there was a dubious expression on her face. “Are you sure? You don’t want to call it quits?”

“And let it end on that note? I don’t think so, Kara.” 

This time around Alex made a concerted attempt to focus. She kept her attention on Kara, watching each move, trying to anticipate the next. When Kara’s fists flew forward in a rapid flurry, Alex almost effortlessly dodged each one, only the last narrowly missed her ear as she weaved to the side. 

Dropping into a roll caused Kara’s follow up kick to sail harmlessly through thin air. Alex was already up and on her feet before the move had finished and her own fist slammed into Kara’s unprotected flank. Her first instinct was to continue pressing forward with her attack, it was what she would have done in the field after all. However she lost a valuable moment to hesitation and her second punch met nothing but air as Kara darted away. Irritated at herself for missing her chance, Alex drove forward too quickly, letting her emotions carry her. A flurry of punches all missed, succeeding only in sapping her energy. Kara easily leapt over a sweeping kick and when Alex rose to her feet she collided with an outstretched arm. Her head snapped back. A follow up kick to the chest was enough to send her crashing down on the pads for the second time in less than a minute.

A sound left her lips. An 'ooof' or a 'mmmppphff' - something that wouldn't have been out of place in a little speech bubble above the head of a comic book villain as they were pummelled by the hero.

Alex lay on her back, staring up at the lights, trying to work out whether everything was still working properly. 

“Oh crap, was that too hard?” Her sister was standing over her, mercifully blocking out the light. “Alex, talk to me?” 

“Nope, not at all.” Alex’s voice emerged as little more than a gasp. “Although I might need a hand up.” 

She tried to keep a pained expression from her face as she grasped Kara’s proffered hand. She rose to her feet much too quickly, but tried to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary even though the room was spinning and she felt sick to her stomach. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kara asked, clearly unconvinced by Alex’s façade. 

“Absolutely.” Alex demonstrated that she could still walk unaided, even though her gait was unnaturally stiff and she had difficulty stepping down from the raised platform. She glared irritably as Kara practically skipped down beside her. 

“’I’m sorry for kicking your butt.” Alex was about to make a snappish remark when Kara continued. “Especially when it was clear your mind wasn’t actually in the fight…or even the room.”

Alex scrubbed at her temples, digging her fingers into the skin as though that would somehow prevent the headache she could feel stirring there. “When did you get so perceptive?” 

“I’m your sister. It’s my job to be perceptive. Do you want to talk about it?” 

The headache had taken hold. A dull pounding that indicated it was in for the long haul, the price of the stress she’d been carrying around for days. No she didn’t want to talk about it. And yes, more than anything. Alex studied the earnest expression on her sister’s face and wondered why this whole coming out process was so difficult. If it was this hard to come out to her sister, how the hell was she going to come out to everyone else in her life? 

Alex offered up a hesitant nod. “Not here though. Can I invite myself over to your place?” 

Kara smirked. “You practically live at my place. You don’t need an invitation.” 

Some of the weight that Alex had been carrying around suddenly disappeared. A few minutes later, as the two of them changed back into their civvies in the locker room, she realised that she was almost eager to tell Kara. After all, Eliza had always said a problem shared was a problem halved. And while Kara certainly wasn’t an expert in the romantic arts…Alex paused in stripping off her boot, her brow furrowed. Scratch that, Kara’s love life was almost as disastrous as her own. Any advice she gave regarding wooing Maggie would likely end in disaster. 

“What are you smirking about?” 

Alex hadn’t even realised she was smirking. She shook her head and resumed changing. The silence in the locker room was suddenly interrupted by the chime of Kara’s phone. Alex was in the process of tugging on a sweater. She dragged it down over her head and found Kara staring at the screen with a quizzical expression on her face. 

“That’s weird. It’s Lena Luthor…inviting me to dinner to thank me for helping her get in touch with Supergirl. Tonight. At Browns.”

The restaurant Kara named was the latest hotspot. The kind of place where it was impossible to get a reservation unless you were someone. And Lena Luthor was definitely a someone. 

Kara started to tap out a reply. 

“I hope you’re saying you’ll be there,” Alex tried to sound as magnanimous as possible, even as her disappointment took hold. 

“Of course not. I’m texting to say I’ve already got plans.”  

“Kara! When are you going to get the chance to go to Browns again? Tell me you’re going.”

“Um…I’m going?” 

Alex forced a smile onto her face, even as she pictured her own evening sitting home alone with a glass of wine. She momentarily considered texting Maggie, but the resulting flurry of heart palpitations reminded her that she’d be much better off with the wine.

 

* * *

 

Kara caught sight of her reflection in a window and paused. She stared for a moment before asking herself what on earth possessed her to wear a dress that accented her every curve as though she was on some sort of a date. Warmth flooded her cheeks and she felt a strong desire to flee. 

Nevertheless, something propelled her towards the door and a weird sense of anticipation settled in…almost as though this _was_ some kind of date. 

_As though anyone you would ever date would bring you somewhere like this_ , Kara thought as an immaculately groomed waiter led her amongst equally well-dressed diners. She hadn’t felt this self-conscious since the first time she stepped into Cat Grant’s imposing office.

A distinct feeling of relief swept over her when she caught her first glimpse of Lena Luthor. Even more so when she caught Lena’s eye. The usually poised businesswoman responded with a broad smile and a silly little wave that took her mind off the uncomfortable surroundings.

Lena stood as she approached the table and cast what looked like a less than discreet glance over her dress. _Oh Rao_ , Kara thought, the warmth in her cheeks intensifying. _It’s awful. I should have had Alex pick out an outfit._   

“That dress, Kara-” Lena paused, the barest flicker of tongue licked her lips. “It’s magnificent.” 

If it were possible, the warmth in Kara’s cheeks grew to volcanic proportions. She practically fell into her chair, ducking her gaze at the first possible opportunity, asking herself why just functioning like a normal person was suddenly so damn difficult. And why she was suddenly reminded of her first days trying to cope in Cat Grant's presence. 

_Clearly I have issues with powerful women. The_ thought sounded ridiculous, even in her own head. _You are a powerful woman, you dummy!_

“Um, thanks. You look-” Kara looked up just as Lena was lowering herself back into her seat. Her gaze landed squarely on the other woman’s cleavage “-very nice.” 

The words emerged sounding something akin to a squeak and she was grateful for the distraction of a waiter depositing a glass of wine in front of her. 

_Very nice?_ Kara thought as she took a hurried gulp for the sake of composing herself. _Powerful women. Issues. Yup._

If she were being absolutely honest with herself, Lena looked stunning. The blue dress, with the low neckline Kara had already noticed, somehow managed to be sophisticated and casual at the same time.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Kara remembered her manners. She was pleased with herself for finally managing to sound as though she had the potential to be articulate. She made a show of looking at her surroundings even though Browns was as daunting as it was fascinating. “This place is certainly very impressive.” 

Lena looked around, her eyebrows raised, as though she too were only just noticing the restaurant that she had chosen. The glance was perfunctory, almost uninterested, before her gaze snapped back to Kara. "Yes. I suppose it is. Impressive that is. I was informed it was the best, so it seemed an appropriate venue to show my appreciation." 

"Oh...for me?" Kara had spent two years making reservations at places like Browns for Cat Grant. The thought of someone making a reservation for her seemed almost ludicrous. "You know I would have been just as happy with pizza and beer."

"Next time then," Lena said with a grin. She lifted her wine glass aloft in a toast. "To friends, coming through when needed."

As she followed suit, Kara had to ask why the manner in which Lena said ‘friends’ sounded so different from the way anyone else would say it. "To friends. And not that I’m ungrateful for-” she gestured to the space around her “- all of this, but I barely did anything. Shouldn’t you be thanking Supergirl?” 

Lena tilted her head to one side, a flicker of smile creasing her lip. “Oh I’m sure my appreciation will find its way back to her. Somehow.” 

In that moment it required every ounce of Kara’s composure to maintain the neutral smile on her face, especially as she couldn’t interpret the inflection in Lena’s voice. Suddenly the menu became the most important object in the world…as well as a useful barrier between her and the enigmatic woman sitting on the opposite side of the table. 

"So, what looks good?” she asked, risking a glance at Lena.

“Beyond the obvious?”

Lena Luthor wasn’t looking at the menu.

TBC....

Author's Note: Thank you very much for all of your kind comments on the first chapter! In response to one key question, I'm not going to follow along with season 2's plot. This will be a new storyline of my own creation because I can't do any justice to what was already depicted on screen and, no doubt, what is to come. 

I know the sparring room with the Kryptonite emitters doesn't exist in season 2, but I really miss the Danvers sisters' sparring sessions so I'm going to pretend that it is tucked away somewhere in the new building.


	3. Gadgets and Demons

No matter how many years she spent on Earth, Kara was sure of one thing – she would never get bored of her ability to fly. Stopping bullets, heat vision, and freeze breath – those powers were all pretty awesome (for lack of a better word). But flying? It was something else altogether. As she banked to the left, high over National City’s skyline, an unbidden smile creased her face. This was joy.

A part of her preferred flying at night. Night-time brought a vibrancy of its own with the lights of National City creating a tableau of colour and movement. As she had once told Cat Grant, Kara liked to think of each light as a person. Behind those lights lay individual lives – each one unique and adding to the tapestry of life in the city.

However, night was also when Supergirl was needed the most. Darkness created a cover of sorts. It aided the wicked, creating the illusion that no one was watching, or that no one cared. Kara hated the fact that people couldn’t feel safe in their own city. While even she couldn’t be everywhere at once, she could use her powers to protect as many people as possible. 

So far that evening she’d dealt with the usual quota of muggings, put down an armed robbery without a shot being fired, and rescued a cat stuck on a ledge. All in all, a relatively slow night. She was deciding whether to head home via her favourite pizza joint when her super hearing was drawn to the sound of angry shouts somewhere below.

“You were given a week to pay up, Tommy. That week’s up tonight. You better tell me you’ve got the cash or the boss is going to be pissed.”

“C’mon, Grimes, you know I haven’t got it. If I had it, I’d hand it over in a heartbeat. Let me walk my wife and kid home and we can go somewhere to discuss this. I-I’ll work out a plan for getting you the money. Every last cent. Plus interest!”

“I got another plan, how about I hand your wife over to my boys here and you can start by paying your debts back that way?”

Less than half a minute passed between picking up the disturbance and the moment her boots hit the ground, but Kara arrived to find herself amid a maelstrom. The heated threats had suddenly descended into all out violence. Kara’s first thought was for the family. However, although terrified, they were nowhere near the fighting.

It was as though a force of nature moved amongst the thugs. Kara was still searching for a target of her own when she watched as a whirling figure swept between two men. She caught a flash of vibrant red. One thug flew headfirst into a dumpster with a loud clang, the other could only grab desperately at the wire that wrapped around his neck before he was hoisted into the air kicking and screaming.

Instead, Kara elected to move to the victims – placing herself in between the violence and the cowering family. The pale, trembling young man with what looked like a week’s worth of stubble on his face was clutching a woman and a terrified little boy to his chest.

“Supergirl!” he gasped, instinctively ducking as a muffled explosion echoed off the walls around them. “I don’t know these guys, I swear.”

“That doesn’t matter. Just get your family the hell away from here, okay?”

The guy didn’t need to be told twice. He swept up the kid under his arm, grabbed his wife’s hand, and sprinted towards the alley’s exit. Just another petty drug dealer, escaping the penalty for running afoul of a drug lord.

When Kara turned her attention back to the thugs, she found only a messy aftermath. The alley floor was littered with limp or crawling bodies. At the centre of it all, stood a woman clad from head to toe in black, faced masked, eyes unreadable. The only distinguishing feature about her was a mane of red hair cascading down her shoulders. That and the fact that she wore a red bat symbol on her chest.

“Another one?” Kara whispered to herself in disbelief.

“Sorry not to leave anything for you, but I just went with the flow and…well-” the woman shrugged as though it was of no consequence “-it’s done now.”

"I would say thanks," Kara began as she approached the strange figure warily. "But it really wasn't necessary to put yourself in harm's way. I would have handled it.”

The woman chuckled, deep and throaty. She planted her boot into the stomach of the nearest semi-conscious thug, receiving only a quiet whimper in reply. “I suppose you’re about to say you eat guys like this for breakfast?”

“For breakfast? No, well I mean it’s hardly a challenge,” Kara started to reply before realising how idiotic she sounded. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up. Bat…woman or not, she was determined not to let this individual dismiss her service to National City so casually. “I take my role seriously…ma’am. There are any number of factors to consider. The safety of bystanders, damage to public property, and-” Kara looked pointedly at the thug who was rolling around in agony, clutching his broken arm “-excessive force.”

The Bat Woman laughed again, this time it was a more of a derisive snort. Without offering up an immediate reply, she walked towards Kara with firm, decisive steps. The effect was one of intimidation. Even as Kara resisted the urge to take a step back, she realised how ridiculous the whole situation was. She was Supergirl for Rao’s sake. This was just some redhaired woman wearing body armour. 

“We’re not all bullet proof,” the woman pointed out. “Using excessive force keeps me safe. And I like it that way.”

“Who are you?” Kara demanded, unnerved that she was so…unnerved.

This time it was a distinct ‘are you stupid’ kind of look as the woman spread her arms, displaying her bright red cape. In the gloom of the alley, the effect was certainly dramatic.

“I can see for myself that you’re a Bat Woman, but _who are you_ and what are you doing in National City?”

“Do you always ask so many questions of people that are trying to help you?”

“When their motives are questionable I do,” Kara fired back. “My cousin worked with the Batman once, are you related or something?”

“Nope. He’s just a friend. And my motives are exactly the same as yours.”

“The jury is still out on that one.”

“I think the evidence speaks for itself.” Batwoman looked around at her handiwork. “I trust you know what to do with little mess?”

“What?” There was no way that she – _Supergirl_ – was cleaning up someone else’s mess. And certainly not one created by someone dressed as a giant bat. “Hey-”

"See you round, Super... _Girl_." Batwoman's full, red lips curled up into a smirk. "Nice skirt by the way."

It wasn't until Kara was staring at the shadowy figure effortlessly springing up the fire escape above her, that she realised her fists were clenched. It was a good thing that her skin was impervious to her own nails, otherwise they would have punctured a series of half-moon shapes across her palm.

Still, even as she raged inwardly over the crack about her costume, it gave her some satisfaction that she was the one flying away from the scene. 

Most of her irritation had disappeared by the time she arrived back at the DEO. Flying had the knack of doing that. Clearing her thoughts. Bringing everything back into perspective. So what if one vigilante disliked her outfit? Skirts, gadgets. It was all irrelevant. What mattered was keeping the citizens of National City safe. Provided the Batwoman continued to act like an ally, Kara would treat her as such.

It was late, but the DEO didn't follow the working day of a regular office. It never shut down. In their specialised line of work, they couldn't afford to knock off at 5pm.

Kara found Winn at his desk, nimble fingers flying across the keyboard with a speed that impressed even her.

"Supergirl!" He greeted her with none of Batwoman's smug derision tied up in the name. Held up his palm. "Lay one on me...gently!"

No sooner had their hands clapped together, Winn went back to his screen. "J'onn's got you working late tonight," she pointed out, having hoped that her friend would be up for a chat about something, even he was just geeking out over something she didn't understand. Perhaps some reassurance that her costume wasn't as ridiculous as Batwoman implied.

"Yeah, it's these abductions." Winn waved his hand in the general direction of his screen. "I'm hoping that if I find some common thread in why or how they've gone missing, then maybe it will help us to find them. Or at least figure out what Cadmus wants with them. But so far I've got zilch, nada, nothing!"

"Anything I can do?" she offered.

"No, thanks though, but I'll let you know when there are heads that need to be busted."

The forehead crinkle made an appearance. Busting heads? Was that all she was good for?

“Oh, almost forgot,” Winn called over his shoulder. “Alex wants to see you. She’s in the lab.”

Kara found her sister exactly where Winn said she’d be. Much like Winn, Alex was intent on whatever she was working on. She peered over Alex’s shoulder, hoping that it was something she could help with. Instead she found a confusing series of numbers and nonsensical squiggly lines. Clearly she needed to stick to busting heads. That at least she was good at.

"Busy night?" Alex asked without looking up from the computer.

"Strange night. There's a vigilante in town who wears a bat costume."

"Seriously?" That drew Alex's attention. She swivelled around in her chair, eyes wide. "That Bat guy, or whatever he calls himself? The one who worked with Clark?"

“Nope,” Kara shook her head. “This one was very clearly a woman.” _A kind of…hot woman._

Alex raised her eyebrows. “Another one?”

“I know, that’s what I said!” Kara replied, throwing her hands up. “Anyone would think they were having a fire sale on bat costumes at ‘ _Vigilantes R Us’_ or something. Hey, Winn said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

For some reason, Alex looked decidedly panicked at that thought. She shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, I mean, it was something that came up this afternoon, but I…dealt with it. All good.”

Kara frowned. “What came up?”

Whether Alex was deliberately trying to ignore her, or just didn’t hear the question, Kara lost her at that point. Alex turned back to her work. Apparently, that was the end of it.

Kara briefly considered asking Alex what she thought of her skirt, but quickly dismissed the idea as pointless. It was her costume and she owned it. End of. She didn’t need someone who dressed up as a giant bat to weigh in on the matter. She placed her hand gently on Alex’s shoulder.

"Hey, I'm going home to binge-watch the first four episodes of The Good Fight. You in?"

"Tempting, but no." Alex briefly lifted her own hand to brush against Kara’s. "I've got a few things I need to finish off here, then it's home to bed. Some of us don't have your stamina for watching box sets into the small hours of the morning on a work night."

"C'mon, Alex, you're the queen of box sets!" Kara pounced on her sister from behind, ensnaring her in a warm hug. Just for a moment, she felt Alex relax into it. "Promise me you won't stay here too late?"

"I promise. Now get going. And no spoilers tomorrow!"

"As if I'd risk our relationship over box set spoilers!" Kara joked.

She was eager to get back to her studio, have a shower and change into something more comfortable. However, as she walked away from Alex, she couldn't shake the feeling that there had been a forced excitement in Alex's voice. Now that she thought about it, her sister had looked tired and drained. Kara paused, wondering whether she should turn around and insist on dragging Alex out of the office. She eventually decided against it. Alex was a big girl. If Alex wanted to trade watching ass-kicking lawyers for the chance to cram in a few extra hours of work, then that was her prerogative. The last thing Alex needed was her little sister telling her what to do.

Kara glanced over her shoulder one last time. Alex had already refocused on whatever science-y thing she was busy with on the computer - head down, shoulders slumped.

The weekend was fast approaching. Although that didn't necessarily mean much in their line of work, it was a good enough excuse for a sister night.

As Kara stepped outside and launched herself into the air, she decided that she would hold off watching The Good Fight and make do with dusting off an old favourite.

_Chuck._ She smiled to herself. _Definitely Chuck._

* * *

 

It was the second time that week that Lena found herself having dinner at Brown's. However, this engagement bore absolutely no resemblance to the pleasant evening that she had spent with Kara Danvers. Instead she stared across the table at her mother, wishing that she was someplace, anyplace, else. The starter she'd chosen, a rather bland soup, was eminently more interesting than listening to Lillian reminisce about family life. As though having some claim to being involved in any other capacity than the elusive figure that Lena remembered. She'd wasted years trying to elicit some form of approval out of her stepmother, but had always come up short. Lena didn’t see how it would be any different now. Even though her brother was in jail, never to see the light of day again, he was still Lillian’s favourite child.

“This is all very lovely, you telling me stories as though I wasn’t actually there,” Lena eventually said. “But there must be some other reason as to why you wanted to have dinner. I don’t believe it was simply to chit chat.”

Lillian looked glacial for an instant. Then it was smoothed over, the calm restored. "Oh you know. I wanted to see how you were. It was all over the media after all.” 

“What was?” Lena asked warily. 

Lillian speared a piece of tomato with ruthless efficiency. “Supergirl saving your life of course. What was she like?” 

Lena tilted her head to one side, studying the overly beatific expression on her mother’s face before she replied, “Kind. Gracious. Humble.” She thought she heard Lillian utter a quiet snort of disbelief. “Exactly what you would expect her to be.” 

“Conniving. Manipulative?” Lillian suggested. She lifted the tomato to her lips and bit down savagely. “Lex thought the same thing of Superman before he revealed his true colours. My poor boy. Entirely too trusting for his own good. You would do well to watch yourself around his cousin. Or better yet, stay away from her altogether.” 

“Oh, Mother, here I am, a grown woman, running my own company, and you’re still trying to tell me what to do. Why don’t you let me make up my own mind about who to trust?”

Lillian smirked. “You always were headstrong. I’ll give you that much.” 

“How nice of you.” 

With humiliation running through her veins, Lena concentrated on the bland soup with more gusto than it deserved. She idly asked herself whether it would be preferable to endure another hour of stilted conversation, or deliberately provoke her mother into leaving. Unfortunately, the latter would cause a scene. She could already imagine the headlines. 

_Luthor Family spat at prestigious restaurant._

L Corp was still far too new to risk more unfavourable headlines about its CEO, regardless of how she felt about her mother. No, she would grin and bear it. Even if it meant listening to Lillian sing Lex’s praises, all the while demeaning her own, not insignificant, accomplishments. Lillian had already returned to family memories. 

“I remember your seventh-grade science project. You refused to let Lex help you, even though you were clearly struggling…”

_I struggled. Worked it out for myself. And received an ‘A.’  
_

“…science wasn’t exactly your strong suit.” 

_I’m just as clever as Lex. And entirely less insane._

Her thoughts flitted to far more pleasant territory. Remembering the sight of Kara Danvers sitting opposite her in this same restaurant. The dress the young woman was wearing. _That dress_. The thought had to be sharply curtailed. The last thing Lena wanted was her mother questioning her about her flushed cheeks.

_I’m quite sure that would make your day, Mother_ , she thought as she lifted another spoonful of soup to her lips. _Finding out that I like fucking women_. 

Well, that revelation wasn’t going to come anytime soon. At college, and during the years since, Lena had worked hard to maintain discretion in her private life. It wasn’t that she wanted to remain closeted. Instead she simply desired to keep this part of her to herself. Away from her mother’s spurious interest. Knowing full well that Lillian would succeed in scaring off any long-term lovers. 

In reality, it made for a lonely existence. 

The harsh sound of a purpose-like ringtone interrupted Lillian mid-sentence. Lena couldn’t even remember what her mother had been talking about, but the call was a welcome distraction. She felt hopeful, then disappointed when Lillian simply glanced at it and rejected the call. 

However, it was immediately followed by a series of text messages. Each sounding more urgent than the last. With mild curiosity, Lena watched the almost imperceptible play of emotions across her mother’s face – wondering if she had imagined a slight twinge of panic. 

Eventually Lillian tucked the phone in her bag and looked up with an almost apologetic smile on her face. “I am afraid…that I must cut short this delightful evening and attend to some urgent business.” 

“Urgent business, Mother? I wasn’t aware you had any business interests.” Lena couldn’t resist the jibe. The resulting narrowing of Lillian’s eyes was more than enough reward. “This has been fun. We should do it again when I can find time in my schedule.” _Which will be never._

They didn’t stoop as low as to feign a hug where one wasn’t necessary. Lena simply offered a tight-lipped smile. It broadened out of relief as she watched her mother walk away. 

_Dinner with mother, check. Another thing to cross off the list of unpleasant tasks._

The waiter paused awkwardly by her table. “Um…shall I bring you the cheque, Ms Luthor?” 

“No, but can you please take this crap away-” she pushed the wine her mother had chosen towards him. “-and bring me a bottle of the Marlborough Syrah while I peruse the menu.” 

“Certainly, Ms Luthor. Right away.” 

It was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The tension caused by Lillian’s presence disappeared. As her eyes roamed over the choices on the menu, her thoughts wandered back to Kara Danvers. Almost absently, she retrieved her phone from her bag. Kara, with her gorgeous, almost shy smile. Lena smiled as she scrolled through the numbers, feeling almost giddy. The way she felt was ridiculous really. Kara was just another young woman. Oh, her type without a doubt. Smart, fierce, funny and, despite the signals Lena has been sending out, still so completely clueless. 

No, two invitations to dinner within the space of a week was too much, too fast. With a regretful sigh, Lena replaced the phone in her bag. 

Her wine arrived. As the waiter poured a measure for her approval, she started mulling over more discreet ways in which she could justify seeing Kara again.

* * *

It was pushing 9pm, but the main office floor at NCPD was still lively. The levels of noise and the tone of the banter hinted that things were winding down for the day. As Maggie threaded her way through her colleagues and desks stacked high with all manner of crap, she overheard snatches of conversation. The same old shit. Mostly about sport – as though life itself was riding on whether some overpaid player scored a touchdown or not.

"Hey, Sawyer?” One of the older detectives called across the room. “You let me know when you're done kissing alien ass and you're up for some real police work.”

The thinly veiled crack at her sexuality was obvious. The guy’s colleagues sniggered around him.

“And you would know all about real work, Davies?” Maggie fired back, momentarily picturing launching herself across the desk and delivering a swift kick to his groin.

It was easy not to care. While she’d never broadcast it, she’d made no secret of the fact she was gay. And it had always given her a kick to have a girlfriend show up at the precinct – leaving a trail of slack-jawed idiots staring, muttering amongst themselves about how she always seemed to get lucky.

Luck had nothing to do with it. It was about treating a lady right. And she had always been exceptionally good at that.

Maggie cast a cursory glance towards her in-tray as she sat down. It was practically overflowing. Without even glancing at a single case, she knew that eighty percent of it would be bullshit. For some reason, everything weird and obscure seemed to find its way into her in-tray, regardless of whether it fit the Science Division's brief. There would be the usual quota of bogus reports, fake sightings and hate crimes that had nothing to do with aliens and everything to do with the simple fact that people were assholes.

Still, sorting through the pile would at least be cathartic. She grabbed the folder on top.

A woman of many talents, one of Maggie's most prized abilities was her knack for zoning out bullshit. From the moment the first folder opened, all the background conversation about sports and her colleague's kids disappeared from her hearing. Her world narrowed to the satisfying existence of work.

_Crap._..Maggie threw the folder onto the growing pile of cases that didn't belong on her desk. _What the hell, where is the alien involvement? It's a clear case for vice..._ Another one on the pile. _Utter bullshit. This is Davies thinking he's funny again_.

"If you hear reference to a giant bat-”

Her trademark powers of concentration deserted her as one of the detectives spoke. His voice had been loud, but it was the ‘B’ word that caught her attention. _Bat…no way-_

“-you obviously think about the Bat Man, but I heard that this was a woman. Get this - a Bat _Woman_.”

“The real question is, was she hot?” another asked. The question was followed by hearty, congratulatory laughter.

“Dunno, the perps that were brought in were almost mad, raving about how she moved as though she was a ghost. I tell you what, no ghost gave them those injuries that’s for sure.”

Maggie realised she was gritting her teeth. Muttering to herself, she retrieved her phone and began stabbing out an angry text message.

_{Kate, WTF! Yr taking up residence in NC now? Not on my watch. Cut this shit out or get the hell back to Gotham. If Supergirl kicks yr ass, don’t come crying to me.}_

The response from Kate was almost instant: _{I’m a big girl, Mags.}_

With an irritated snort, Maggie shoved her phone back into her pocket and tried to refocus on the case files covering her desk. However, her irritation made it difficult to concentrate. National City had Supergirl. They didn’t need a vigilante adding to the confusion. It was more likely that Kate was going to get herself hurt. Or worse.

Maggie found it next to impossible to get back into her comfortable, focused zone. She heard every word of inane conversation from the other side of the room.

"C'mon. Are you serious?”

“It's like I was telling Frank the other day, Harvey needs to man up and bench Maloney if they're going to have any chance of clawing back the points difference with the Blues.”

“I agree. Just because they dropped a load of cash on the guy, doesn't mean they should have him starting every game. He's deadweight-"

She couldn’t work, but nor did she have any desire to go home. No doubt Kate would be there and they’d end up in some sort of confrontation. And with her frame of mind, a confrontation with Kate was just as likely to lead to angry sex. Maggie definitely didn’t want to go there.

“Fuck this,” she growled under her breath.

She threw down her pen and drew her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her contacts. Her actions were decisive until her finger was poised above the name she sought. Her finger hovered as she recalled Kate's advice admonishing her not to get involved.

So what? This wasn't getting involved. It was just a phone call to a friend. Catching-up. Of course, there was the distinct potential that she would suggest they meet up for a drink. But that's what friends were supposed to do. They went out for drinks together. Talked. Enjoyed each other's company. Saw more of each other.

Knew what it felt like to tuck one of Alex's curls behind her ear.

_Okay, that is the definition of getting involved!_ _Fuck it._ Maggie stabbed her finger downwards. She knew she'd made the right decision when a palpable thrill coursed down her spine as the call connected. _When have you ever listened to Kate anyway?_

The answer was swift. “Sawyer."

"Danvers." Maggie loved this game they played. A little too much. "What's new?"

“Well, the DEO is working through the information your friend gave us," Alex started to explain in a matter-of-fact voice. "It's still relatively early days, but we're taking this very seriously. Whatever Cadmus is trying to accomplish through these kidnappings, it has the entire department on high alert."

"I'm glad. If any organisation can get to the bottom of this, it's the DEO." Maggie was still angry at Kate for staying in National City and making a nuisance of herself. That wasn't going to go away in a hurry. But it was also the last thing she wanted to think about. "But I didn’t call to talk about work. I called to talk about you-" _Woah. Much, much too much, Sawyer_. "About how you are with...everything."

"Oh." Alex sounded blatantly surprised. "Um, fine I guess."

It was one of the least convincing responses Maggie had ever heard. "Uh-huh. Really? Which is why you're still at work?"

"How do you know I'm still at work?"

_Just a hunch_. "It doesn't change the fact that you _are_ still at work, Danvers. Let's change that. Meet me for a drink at Dolly's?"

It had taken her less than a minute to bring up the drinks invitation. _Smooth._

"It's late..."

"Do you want me to call your Mom for you? Get permission for you to stay out late? C'mon. One drink. Possibly one round of me kicking your ass at pool."

Finally, there it was. A carefree laugh. Maggie grinned with satisfaction at the knowledge that this was a done deal.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen, Sawyer. See you in thirty?"

"You're on. See you soon."

Maggie stood, tucking her phone in her back pocket. She knew full well that she was walking a dangerous tightrope. While Kate's warning had pissed her off, it was still good advice that she needed to heed. Unfortunately, there was no way she would ever accept not being a part of Alex Danvers' life. Not when she found it so difficult to find people that she could stand to be around. And Alex was already more than that. Alex was a friend.

She'd just have to promise to behave herself.

* * *

 

While Lillian couldn't go as far as to say that dinner with her daughter had been a success or even particularly enjoyable, it was the most time they had spent together for several years. Lillian wasn't interested in spending time with Lena out of any maternal instinct, instead it stemmed from an inherent desire for knowledge. Lena had efficiently cut her out of everything to do with Luthercorp - or whatever it was these days. 

_L Corp_. Her lip curled into a sneer. Excising their proud family name from the company. 

If a few awkward dinners were all it took to regain some measure of insight, and possibly even control, then Lillian was prepared to feign interest in Lena's life. 

_Bastard brat that she is_ , Lillian thought to herself as she entered the cell block at one of Cadmus' testing facilities. Her heels rapped sharply on the tiles, announcing her presence to the nervous looking doctor clutching a clipboard. "This had better be important, Dr Abernathy." 

"Ah, yes, Ms Luthor," he said, nodding towards a nearby glass fronted cell. "I think you'll see that we've had a small setback."

With an irritated sigh, Lillian stepped forward so that she could look for herself. Her lip immediately twitched in disgust. The small cell had previously been a pristine white - the bedding on the narrow bed, white tiles, white fixtures. The red blood was in stark contrast. Smeared across the floor. Splattered over the bed. However, the greatest concentration was an area of tiling on the wall. The tiles were broken at near head height, liberally covered in blood. As though someone had-

"Subject 54. He repeatedly struck his-"

"I can see that for myself, you moron," Lillian cut the doctor off in a tight voice. "The question is why?"

She stared at the body lying face down in the middle of the cell. In a previous life, the young man had been a college track star, earning mentions of an Olympic career. Cadmus has taken that potential and shaped it into something even more promising. The ability to change the world as opposed to win meaningless medals. Now his lithe, muscular body was nothing more than an empty shell. 

"I observed his performance yesterday," Lillian continued. "There were no indications that he was rejecting the procedure. You yourself assured me that he was one of the most promising candidates. Nearly field ready, were your exact words. Now it's an expensive failure!" 

"I must apologise." Abernathy was unable to hold her gaze. Staring at the dead body was clearly easier. "It appears my optimism was premature, at least in this case."

"Unless you want to find yourself alternate employment, I would suggest you ascertain the reason for this instead of standing around apologising!" Lillian snapped impatiently. "We have our deadline. If I don't have a team field ready-"

"You will...we will!" he looked up, bobbing his head. His determination almost feverish. "This was an aberration."

Lillian folded her arms across her chest. "It had better be, doctor. For all our sake's, but yours in particular."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a fan of love triangles, so I'm not expecting to go down that route. However a little angst and confusion makes the rewards all the sweeter in the end. 
> 
> The title is taken from a song by the fabulous Florence + the Machine.


End file.
